


Onyx

by wheel_pen



Series: Loose Gems [31]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Nicobar, Slavery, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 08:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6147562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A professional sex slave employed by a hotel has an illustrious new client—the Governor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The bad words are censored; that’s just how I do things.  
> Inherent in slavery and other forms of subjugation are dubious consent, unhealthy relationships, and violence.  
> I hope you enjoy this original work, which was inspired by many different stories. 
> 
> Visual reference:  
> Onyx--Jonathan Rhys Meyers  
> Julian St. Claire--Ewan McGregor

Ms. Pendleton was not happy that I could only do light duty for the next two weeks, but Dr. Gainsberg was quite adamant about it. I was not to do anything too strenuous just yet, he told her, not until I was completely back to normal. Otherwise, he said, I might damage a muscle or even rebreak a bone and be out of commission for much longer. The law said she had to follow the house doctor’s orders, so all the yels were given their instructions.

Nobody, of course, asked me what _I_ wanted to do. Every time I saw one of those slick-haired sharks with a yellow carnation in their lapel, heading towards me with an eager patron on their heels, I tried to tuck myself back in a corner, maybe behind one of the plants. I didn’t want to do any work. I didn’t want to be alone with anyone, with the door locked and the lights dimmed.

Not that I was really afraid of most of my patrons—many were regulars, some were recommended by regulars and had similar tastes, and all had been thoroughly instructed by the yels on what I couldn’t do. I just didn’t want—to be working. To be feigning admiration for bodies that didn’t interest me, to be taking orders from people who didn’t know how to give them, to be allowing strangers to fondle and kiss me. I didn’t want any part of it anymore.

My convalescence was the first real “vacation” I’d had since I started working three years ago, and I had gotten out of the routine. I had had time to do things I enjoyed, like read, that I rarely had time for otherwise, and it spoiled me. But mostly I had gotten used to _not_ being surrounded by groping strangers, and I decided I liked that better.

Ms. Pendleton wasn’t too impressed by my “defiant” attitude, of course; she said I had been frightening some of the patrons, that I had been too much for them. Isn’t that what a challenging sub did? No—a challenging sub was supposed to let the dom _win_ , even if I made them work for it.

I tried to explain that I didn’t want to work anymore, at least for a while, that it made my stomach queasy and my skin crawl, but of course that didn’t do any good. “You want to switch professions?” she’d asked sarcastically. “Maybe you’d like _my_ job! Maybe you’d like to be Governor!” A slave I was born and a slave I would die, and I was just happy to have a place I belonged—those words were on the banner in the common room.

I’d already done three light duty jobs today, none too horrible in the details, but all nauseating in general. All afternoon and into the evening I’d been sitting in the lounge behind the plants, bored out of my mind as usual. Then I saw _him_ enter.

I recognized him from the telly, of course. Someone had said he was staying here, but I hadn’t spotted him yet. As soon as he walked into the lounge, every head turned in his direction, trying to catch his eye, because landing the Governor would be a bigger triumph than any celebrity or executive.

He was more handsome in person, I thought, and younger-looking as well, with shoulder-length blond hair and an easy-going manner that probably caused many people to underestimate him. Even when Ms. Pendleton pounced on him and sprayed him with compliments, he didn’t seem to believe her. He wasn’t even paying attention to her really, with his eyes wandering all around the room.

And then he spotted me. I didn’t have time to look away, and I didn’t want to, either. Couldn’t I look at him if I wanted? Well, not really—it was too bold, and I finally broke the eye contact and scrambled back into the corner even farther. The damage was already done, though—just a few moments later, a yel was escorting me over to Ms. Pendleton.

“You sent for me, ma’am?” I asked innocently. I let the Governor ogle me for a minute, then turned up my nose at him—disdain always drove the powerful people crazy.

“Onyx,” Ms. Pendleton replied with her unpleasant smile, “this is a very distinguished guest. I’m trying to persuade him to take advantage of our services.”

It was a script I knew well enough. Turning a flirtatious gaze on the ruler of my country, I purred, “Well, I would be happy to help with the persuasion.”

Contrary to popular opinion, one _couldn’t_ tell someone’s tastes just by looking at them, not very well anyway. Powerful people often wanted someone else to be in charge for a while, sometimes went as far as being submissives. But the Governor could have easily enjoyed something more mainstream, and it was to be _my_ job to figure it out, and in a hurry. Did he want an innocent to seduce? A smoldering tempter? A bubbly lad to have a bit of fun with?

I decided to start with the basics and sat down on the couch beside him, practically in his lap. I wrapped myself around a total stranger like a cheap faux-fur coat, one hand on the back of his neck and one on his arm, and always with a happy smile that was supposed to cover the sick feeling in my stomach. He didn’t seem to like it very much, though; his body language was completely wrong, all tense and awkward.

Ms. Pendleton noticed it, too. “I can only imagine what your tastes run to, Governor,” she told him, and he looked a bit alarmed about what she might be conjuring up, “but Onyx is cleared all the way up to light S&M.” She paused and I couldn’t help but think about my last major client, the one who had pushed far beyond those boundaries. I caught the Governor looking at me, though, and I quickly snapped back to my current potential client. “He specializes in submissive, but he’s very versatile—“

I felt the Governor’s whole body change with those words, although he probably didn’t even notice himself. “He’s a submissive?” Excited. Happy. _Interested_. Ms. Pendleton had found his fit. Turning to me with an icy glare, he ordered, “Then get off the couch, and don’t touch me until I give you permission!”

For an instant I felt a little thrill go through me. A governor was accustomed to giving orders—perhaps he really would know how to do it properly, how to play the game. I crushed that thought in a hurry as I jumped off the couch and knelt at his feet. That was too much to hope for, and anyway he would be gone in just a few days. I wouldn’t get to enjoy him very long even if he _was_ above average. But at least he was on the right path.

I could hear Ms. Pendleton’s smugness in her voice as she commented dryly, “Perhaps he’ll be compatible with you after all.”

Although the Governor was more comfortable now, she still hadn’t sold him on me—he hadn’t bitten yet. I concentrated on sitting absolutely still, not touching him but always near at hand, alert to any signals about what I should do. I wondered if he truly appreciated the years of training and practice, the carefully-selected natural tendencies, that went into my art. Probably not.

Ms. Pendleton was desperate to hook him. He liked the look of me, that was obvious. Counting the Governor as a patron of not just her hotel but also her brothel would be the best publicity she could hope for. As if _I_ really wanted more clients, more temporary masters pawing at me.

“Twelve hours, only one hundred—from now until nine tomorrow morning,” she enticed. She would give him a freebie if he balked at the price.

“Why only one hundred?” I nearly broke my submissive pose when he asked that. Did that mean the Governor was a man of taste and refinement, who recognized quality goods when he saw them, who knew enough about the flesh trade to ask questions before he bought? Perhaps he was just trying to make sure he didn’t get bargain-basement goods. I held my breath, waiting for Ms. Pendleton to reveal to him my limitations.

She forced a hollow chuckle out and reached down to grab my chin, her eyes warning me to keep quiet. I frowned and tried to pull away, and her grip tightened painfully. “Well, he’s just a baby, sir,” she insisted, “not nearly as experienced as some of the others.” Not only was I thoroughly insulted by this, I was also beginning to worry that she might not be clear in her instructions to him. “He just needs someone to give him orders and make him behave. Don’t you, Onyx?”

My tone was sweet, my eyes were not. “Yes, ma’am.”

After a long moment of thought, the Governor finally bit. “Well, I think you have persuaded me. I’ll take him.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The same scene, from a different perspective

“Ah, Governor, finally finished with work for the day?” purred the silver-haired woman who met Julian at the entrance to the hotel lounge.

“Only for the moment, Ms. Pendleton,” he replied easily, shaking her hand. “I have a great deal to accomplish this week.”

“You must sit and relax for a few minutes, anyway,” she insisted, guiding him to an antique gold and white couch. “I’m so honored to have you staying at my little hotel, Governor.”

Julian recognized false modesty when he heard it, but he merely leaned back and smiled. “Well, your ‘little hotel’ is the finest in the city,” he assured her. “I couldn’t think of staying anywhere else.”

“You’re too kind, Governor,” Ms. Pendleton replied. “Can I get you a drink?” She signaled for the waiter, who rushed over.

“Scotch, thank you.” The waiter scurried off and Julian tried to relax, letting his eyes wander about the expensively furnished room while its owner continued to flatter him. Julian knew better than to take her compliments to heart, but it amused him to hear them. All the praise in the world couldn’t change his mind about key issues he wanted to resolve at this conference—including the one about tariffs on imported goods. Ms. Pendleton had already voiced her opinion—she favored lowering them, so she could spend less on furnishings and make even more money—but Julian was determined to give homegrown goods every advantage he could.

From the looks of the lounge, Ms. Pendleton had already imported most of the major European eras: crystal chandeliers sprinkled above the cream-and-gold fleur-de-lis carpet, ornately-carved furniture was grouped carefully around the enormous marble fireplace (quite useless in a tropical climate), and real potted plants dotted the corners. The pleasure slaves scattered throughout the room were expensive ornamentation themselves; trained, groomed, and maintained exclusively by the hotel, they were said to be worth every penny of their exorbitant prices.

Julian’s eyes settled briefly on a lovely blond woman talking animatedly with an older man, then on a man his own age flirting shamelessly with a redhead. Then his gaze was drawn to the far corner of the room, where someone knelt behind one of the potted palms, almost as if hiding. He was a young man, very young, more of a boy really, with a brown mop of hair and eyes that were hot and dark when they boldly met Julian’s for a moment. Then he seemed to remember his place and lowered his gaze, scooting even farther behind the plant.

Julian was so intrigued by him he didn’t even notice Ms. Pendleton had stopped speaking. When he realized the older woman was merely watching him with a half-smirk on her face, he laughed a little and sipped his drink.

“I apologize, Ms. Pendleton,” he told her. “You were saying?”

“Well, what I _should_ have been saying, Governor St. Claire,” she began with a satisfied smile, “was that if you would care for a little companionship for the evening, it would of course be on the house.”

Julian smiled but shook his head. “No, thank you, Ms. Pendleton,” he replied automatically.

“Are you quite certain?” she enticed. “We have a wide variety of skills and specialties here, the widest on the island—something for every taste.”

“A very fine selection, I’m sure,” Julian agreed, “but as a government official I can’t accept gifts worth over five hundred—“

“It just so happens,” Ms. Pendleton continued, “that I have some excellent slaves available for only one hundred a night—like that young man over there.” Before he could stop her she snapped her fingers and indicated the boy behind the plant, who was quickly ushered over.

“Really, Ms. Pendleton, it’s not—“

“You sent for me, ma’am?” He was even younger than Julian had estimated earlier, barely twenty if that, slender and pale with high cheekbones and full lips. His features were delicate, almost feminine, but there was a saucy tilt to his nose and a snotty tone in his voice that made Julian want to slap him—in a good way. Especially when he glanced over Julian with his dark eyes and arched an eyebrow dismissively, as if unimpressed.

“Onyx,” she said approvingly, “this is a very distinguished guest. I’m trying to persuade him to take advantage of our services.”

“Well, I would be happy to help with the persuasion,” Onyx replied flirtatiously. In an instant he was curled up beside Julian on the couch, one hand caressing the back of his neck and the other sliding down his arm. It wasn’t exactly what Julian had in mind and he shifted uncomfortably.

“I can only imagine what your tastes run to, Governor,” Ms. Pendleton continued, and Julian had the impression her imagination was doing far more work than necessary, “but Onyx is cleared all the way up to light S&M.” Julian thought he saw, just for an instant, the boy’s extremely fake smile falter. “He specializes in submissive but he’s very versatile—“

“He’s a submissive?” Julian repeated with surprise, a note of delight creeping into his voice. Fixing the boy with a glare, he snapped, “Then get off the couch, and don’t touch me until I give you permission!”

Eyes suddenly wide, the slave scrambled to obey and knelt quietly by Julian’s feet. Ms. Pendleton quirked a silver eyebrow and remarked, “Perhaps he’ll be compatible with you after all.”

Julian still wasn’t entirely convinced. If the boy only cost one hundred, he wasn’t breaking any laws, but… Julian had never really been interested in one-night hotel encounters. He preferred to work with his slaves on a long-term basis, so they could learn what he most enjoyed. The boy _was_ quite beautiful, though, and if he was going to be a difficult sub, perhaps a spanking was in order…

Seeing Julian’s hesitation, Ms. Pendleton pressed, “Twelve hours, only one hundred—from now until nine tomorrow morning.”

Julian was a little bit suspicious. “Why only one hundred?”

Ms. Pendleton laughed—a fake laugh, Julian noted—and cupped the boy’s chin in a manner that was supposed to look affectionate. The boy, however, wrinkled his nose in distaste and tried to pull away, so she tightened her grip menacingly. “Well, he’s just a baby, sir!” she explained. “Not nearly as experienced as some of the others. He just needs someone to give him orders and make him behave. Don’t you, Onyx?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ms. Pendleton was too smart to pawn substandard goods off on the Governor, Julian decided, but she also wasn’t telling him the truth. Perhaps the boy was more of a handful than she pretended. That could be fun, Julian decided—and if Julian later felt he was too tired to deal with him, he could just send the boy away, no money lost. And he _was_ very beautiful.

He smiled at Ms. Pendleton, unconcerned about how smug she was feeling. “Well, I think you have persuaded me. I’ll take him.”


End file.
